


Love Stuff

by earlgreytea68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 22:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14530788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: Arthur and Eames take a road trip.





	Love Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> I have done a lot of driving through random parts of the country. Most of these billboards and references are genuine. Except for the anti-abortion one. That one I was a bit of hyperbole I borrowed from Tumblr (I think actually involuntaryorange made that joke?). There are a bunch of dramatic billboards out there about abortion, though. 
> 
> These billboards are all real, but you can't follow this trip. I just tossed them all in randomly.
> 
> This is for dear MaryJane221b, who's in need of some fluff. ::hugs::, darling

“I think,” said Eames, “we should treat this as an adventure.” 

“No,” said Arthur. 

“It’s definitely an adventure.” 

“It’s not,” said Arthur. 

“You and I, mile after mile through the American heartland. Do you know, I’ve always wanted to drive across the American heartland?” 

“This isn’t the American heartland.” 

“Oh, is that an actual place? I thought it was just…any place between New York and California.” 

Arthur considered, then said reluctantly, “Okay, maybe. I don’t actually know.” 

Eames was silent for a little while, looking interestedly out the window. Arthur was perplexed by his interest. There was literally nothing to see. Flat, empty land rolled away from the road in all directions. No cars behind them or ahead of them. All of which were good signs when you were fleeing something, but none of which should have been holding Eames’s interest. 

“Look at that enormous cross,” Eames said, pointing at the huge white cross looming on the horizon.

“Yes,” said Arthur. “Welcome to America.” 

“Did someone build that cross?” 

“I think people buy them.” 

“So is there a catalogue of enormous crosses? Darling, I think I might want an enormous cross.” 

“Is that a euphemism?” 

Arthur caught out of the corner of his eye that Eames looked at him with delight. “Do you want it to be a euphemism?” 

“No,” Arthur said primly. 

“Ah, darling, I am going to wear you down on this romantic, adventurous road trip we’re taking.” 

“It is none of those things,” said Arthur. “Not romantic, not adventurous, and not a road trip.” 

“We’ll see,” said Eames. “You know what we should do. We should stop at Miranda’s Adult Entertainment Store.” Eames pointed at the billboard encouraging them to get off at the next exit. 

“Nope,” said Arthur. 

“It would help set the romantic mood of this road trip.” 

“Eames, even if we were trying to set a romantic mood, I don’t know that Miranda’s is the place to do it.” 

“Would you prefer the Mouse’s Ear Gentleman’s Club?” Eames gestured to the next billboard. 

“No,” said Arthur. 

“You’re really no fun. Look, we’ve missed the Miranda’s exit.” 

“Don’t worry,” said Arthur. “There will be plenty more.” 

***

“You were not joking,” Eames said. “I think there are more Miranda’s Adult Superstores than gas stations in the American heartland.” 

“Yes,” agreed Arthur. 

“The only thing that rivals Miranda’s Adult Superstores are the enormous white crosses,” said Eames. 

“Yes,” agreed Arthur. 

“Have you done a lot of driving through the American heartland? You seem unsurprised.” 

“I’ve done my fair share of driving through the American heartland.” 

“Darling,” said Eames. “Please don’t share too much information with me all at once, you’re overwhelming me with sincerity.” 

Arthur smiled but tried to pretend he was frowning. But sometimes, well, he just couldn’t resist Eames. He always hoped Eames didn’t notice that, but he suspected Eames definitely did notice. 

“Oh, look,” said Eames. “We’re entering Franklin County. The man dressed as Benjamin Franklin says we should explore it.” Eames indicated the billboard. “What do you think is in Franklin County to explore?” 

“Miranda’s,” said Arthur. 

Eames laughed. 

***

“Arthur,” said Eames. His voice was growing more tired, and Arthur did have to admit they’d been driving a while, and the road stayed empty, so maybe he could stop. 

“Yes,” said Arthur. 

“I have an important question for you.” 

Arthur tensed, waiting for an invasion of his privacy. A truth-or-dare. A never-have-I-ever. 

“Is Jesus in you?” asked Eames. 

“What?” said Arthur, and then saw the billboard asking the question. 

“I mean,” said Eames thoughtfully, leaning his head against the window. “That’s quite the question. Is Jesus in you?” 

“Ponder it for a bit and let me know what you think,” suggested Arthur. 

“Do you think they mean sexually?” 

Arthur barked startled laughter. 

“I mean, Jesus did invent the prostate.” 

“I don’t think Jesus invented anything.” 

“No? I feel like he invented something. Love? Did he invent love?” 

“We Jewish people also have love,” Arthur said. 

“Hmm. I feel like Googling ‘Is Jesus in you?’ would lead to a lot of Jesus porn. What do you think?” 

“Let’s not find out,” said Arthur. 

***

“Uranus Fudge Factory,” Eames read off the billboard. “The best fudge is in… Do you think they thought that through? Do you think they read that out loud?” 

“Yes,” said Arthur simply, and glanced over at Eames. “You can sleep if you want.” 

“Who would keep you company?” asked Eames. 

“The billboards,” said Arthur. 

“As soon as I fall asleep, you’re going to stop and visit Miranda.” 

Arthur smiled. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

Eames chuckled. 

Arthur stole another glance at him. Eames was the one who’d been run ragged before the job had gone to hell. It should have been Arthur being run ragged, but it was Eames who had pulled out every stop for damage control while Arthur had been off distracted with a red herring. Arthur knew objectively that hadn’t been his fault—it had been a very convincing red herring—and Eames had said as much several times as they’d been making their escape. But still. 

“Look,” said Arthur. “The least I can do is let you be the first one to sleep, since I made you do all the work this job.” 

“You didn’t,” said Eames, yawning. “It’s fine. I’ll read more billboards. We’ll sleep together when we stop for the night.” Eames paused. “I didn’t even intend that double entendre. Fuck, I am exhausted.” 

***

“Hell is real,” remarked Eames off the next billboard. 

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. “It’s working with Nash.” 

Eames laughed. “I would have said it’s working with Cobb. Look, at three weeks gestation a fetus is capable of learning differential equations.” Eames pointed to the next anti-abortion billboard. “Do you think that’s true?” 

“No.” 

***

Eames fell asleep, despite his protestations otherwise. Arthur kept driving. And thought about Eames. And how, when everything had gone to hell, Arthur had grabbed Eames and physically pulled him out ahead of the hail of bullets. How there had never been a question but that they would flee together. How Eames was sound asleep now, trusting that Arthur was driving him to safety, and how Arthur was eventually going to get off this highway and get them a hotel room and trust that Eames would be…there. He was just going to trust that Eames would be there. Arthur had dragged him along both to keep Eames safe and to keep Arthur company. Because Arthur wanted Eames near him to make sure he was okay, and because Arthur didn’t want to be without him. 

Arthur didn’t want to drive through the heartland of America without Eames. Arthur didn’t want to do fucking _anything_ without Eames. 

Arthur drove and read the billboards, trying to remember the ones that Eames would most appreciate. And he didn’t even think about why he was doing this, it was just… Of course he would do this. Of course. 

Arthur pulled off the highway and into the parking lot and stopped the car and looked at Eames sleeping. For so long that he started to feel a little creepy doing it. 

Then Eames stirred. His eyes fluttered open and met Arthur’s gaze. He did not seem alarmed to find Arthur watching him. He stretched and said, “Mmm, we’ve stopped.” 

“This store is called Love Stuff,” Arthur said. “I thought you might like this store.” 

Eames looked in delight at the store. “I do indeed love stuff! I especially love love stuff. Do you suppose that’s what they mean?” 

“Eames,” said Arthur, and he didn’t know what he meant to say. Eames’s name came out hoarse and uncertain. 

Eames looked at him, and then Eames smiled at him, like Arthur had just delivered an impassioned speech and Eames totally understood. “Darling,” said Eames, “do you want to investigate love stuff with me?” 

Which was the stupidest question Arthur had ever been asked in his life, how ridiculous. “Yes,” Arthur said.


End file.
